Gri'shaks history
by Taco
Summary: First atempt at a story, would like a lot of feedback, not only for develeopment, but also for motivation
1. Default Chapter

Prologue  
  
The Lich was a mage in acient times, the east. He used to be part of a party of succesfull and loved adventurers, but on one adventure they discovered a huge treasure. In this treasure was an item that caused him too become cursed. He believed that the other party members wanted to kill him, so they could keep all the treasure. Not realising that their mage had changed, they let him keep watch that night.  
  
That night he hid all of their equipment and started blasting his sleeping comrades with powerfull incantations. No one survived that night. He gathered all of the equipment and treasures he could find and went back to his magetower. For several months he locked himself up in the tower and started researching all of the items. When he found out he was cursed by one of the items, he was shocked. He removed the curse and feverishly researched any posibility to restore his former friends back to life.  
  
During this time he created a lot of undead, failures in his experiments. His greatest failure was with the warrior of the party, whom he accidentally turned into an utterly evil Death Knight. When this happened he decided that he wouldn't be able to resurrect his friends with his own magic, and he started searching for locations of powerfull items that could do the task of restoring his friends to life. At one point he learned about an ancient artifact, used by the Gods themselves to create this world, that could alter the flow of time and held more powers then was ever meant for mortals to hold.  
  
He gathered his created army of the undead and headed west, towards the Neptune Sea. The cursed item he took with him, as a reminder of the terrible thing that he did. The vast army moved slowly across the land and reached the great desert that sealed the Neptune Sea area from the rest of the continent. After several weeks of traveling through this hellish environment the supplies he needed to keep himself alive, where almost gone.  
  
His army of undead never slowed down however, not needing food, water or sleep. Unknown to him, his former friend and now the undead general of this army, the Death Knight, changed course of the army in the nights so they would stay in the desert longer. Although he couldn't hurt the mage directly, because of powerfull magics keeping him in check, and he had to follow the instructions given to him, he still could interpret as he saw fit. The mage ordered him to cross the desert as quickly as possible, but he never said anything about the direction. So the Death Knight altered the direction several times, because he 'kept changing his mind' about the direction they should be heading.  
  
The mage spent most of his time within a huge undead construction that he used for transportation, so he never found out about his former friends betrayal. Just a few days before his supplies were gone the army approached an oasis, much to the frustration of the Death Knight. But unfortunatly, mere hours before they would reach the oasis a sandstorm picked up. It was an almost unatural storm in intensity and the enitre army was buried in the desertsands within a few hours.  
  
The great transportation undead, with the mage still inside, was one of the last creatures to become covered by the desert. The mage tried several spells of teleportation to escape, but they all failed for unknown reasons. The storm lasted several days, that stretched into several weeks. The supplies where totally depleted and the mage tried almost all spells he knew to get out, all failing. One night, his strength almost totally gone, he memorized the one spell of which he hoped that he would never had to cast it. He ordered his skeleton servant to place him within a large coffin, after he had cast the spell. He cast the spell Temporal Stasis upon himself and the last thought he had before drifting away in oblivion was 'find the Orb.' 


	2. The Lich awakens

Chapter 1: The Lich awakens!  
  
It has been several weeks, since Morkul started his track across the desert and his patience with the guides was starting to wear thin. Every time they would reach an oasis they would stay there for several days, a thing Morkul thought was useless. He started thinking about killing them all so he could raise them as undead servants, not having to stop for days at every oasis. But, alas, he needed their knowledge of the desert if he wanted to reach his destination alive.  
  
When he hired them in Yellowtown, he posed as a archeologist , for he feared that should they discover his worship of Talos, they would leave him in the desert to die. Not that that would happen, his worship of Talos enabled him to cross planes with a single spell, and he could have his revenge on them at a later time. But this would cost him valuable time, he didn't want to lose. The moment he would have reached his destination and found the information he was looking for, he would destroy them all as an offering to the God of storms, destruction, rebellion, conflagrations, earthshakings and vortices: Talos.  
  
For now he had got to put up with these worms. But just as he thought he could take no more, his God sent him a blessing, in the form of a massive sandstorm. The caravan rushed towards the oasis they spotted earlier on the horizon. Morkul however, unmounted from his camel and set out on foot. All of the guides pleaded for him to join them on their camels so they could reach the oasis before the sandstorm would reach them, but he refused, letting the guides know that he would see them after the storm.  
  
Thinking he was crazy they left him, expecting to never see him alive again. He set out, not towards the oasis and relative safety, but towards the centre of the storm and almost certain doom. But there was no fear in his hart, because he knew that his God would protect him.  
  
#  
  
"Hurry! We have got to raise this tent if we want to survive this storm!" Lenvon the caravan leader shouted. "This is no ordinairy storm! We have brought the wrath of the Gods upon us, for participating on this quest!" "Stop talking and tie the camels to the trees!"  
  
The entire group hurried to get the tent up, so they could get out of this suffocating sandstorm. It was a difficult task but after several terrifying minutes they were all sitting in the relative safety of the tent.  
  
"Korvel, have you secured the camels?" Lenvon asked, shaking the sand out of his clothes.  
  
"Of course I did! But it doesn't matter! This is no normal storm and we are all going to die!"  
  
"O, shut up! You've said this during every sandstorm and didn't we always make it out just fine?" Lotter responded.  
  
"Well.yeah.but I've got a REALLY bad fealing about this storm. It doesn't feel natural." The nervous young man started rubbing his holy symbol of Pelor, he always carried with him, arround his neck.  
  
"What isn't natural is the thing you do to the camels late at night, when you think everybody is asleep, ya pervert!" This was a response Korvel didn't expect and he immediately turned blushing red, moving his eyes franticly trying to think of a thing to say, while the rest of the group were laughing out loud at his expense.  
  
At that moment they heard a bellowing laugh coming from outside, that sent a shiver through their spines. Lettor was the first to speak. ".Th.th.that wasn't the w.w.wind! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!?!?!?!"  
  
"Must have been that Morkul guy! It can't be anything else! His laughter must have been amplified by the winds or something." Korvel said, after his face turned from a blushing red to a terrified white.  
  
"Yeah right! We've been in numerous storms before, and I've never heard anything like this! Ah man! We've angered the Gods by following this guy!"  
  
"Shut your face Lettor", Lenvon said, trying to sound calm. "We never were in a storm were somebody was mad enough to walk straight into it, so it may be Morkul or it may not be him. Whatever the case, it's something we can look into after the storm is over. So just sit tight and we'll wait untill tomorrow."  
  
"Ah, your right Lenv, as always. Let's just hope nothing like this happens during the rest of this storm!" Lettor said, as he was calming down.  
  
#  
  
His robe was flapping feaverishly in the strong winds and he could not see more then two feet, but still Morkul was not afraid. He knew that, as a priest of Talos, his lord would protect his body from taking damage in this storm. When he saw two giant blazing coals in the storm, he knew that his quest was at an end. He stopped walking and started waiting. The storm raged for the rest of the day and throughout the night.  
  
#  
  
It was still early morning when the storm finally subsided, and the frightened men in the tent finally could go outside to check the damage, the storm has caused.  
  
"Okay guys, let's check out the camels and..." Lenvon stopped dead in his tracks, amazed and terrified at the same time by what he saw. All the other men were equally mesmorized by the view they had after they got out of the tent. The storm had blown the sanddunes that were there yesterday away and reveiled what was burried beneath them, a massive collection of skeletons, both humanoid and monstrous.  
  
Their bones bleached by the sun, their hands carrying rusted weapons and shields. There were thousands of them, almost completely surrounding the oasis. The camels were nowhere in sight, probably running away after the first sight of the undead army. Suddenly they saw movement between the skeletal remains and they snapped back to reality. Still to scared to make any sound or even move they saw Morkul running towards them through the legions of undead, laughing like a maniac, his clothes torn by the hard winds and sand, but his body totally unharmed.  
  
"Come! Come you fools! Hahaha! Grab your shovels and come with me! I've finally found it! If finally found it! Wahahaha!"  
  
"Lenv, what should we do?"Korvel whispered, trying to remain calm.  
  
"He's gone insane in the storm! I say we gather the rest of our gear and get the fuck out of here!" Lettor whispered a bit harder.  
  
"We don't know what these things will do, should we try to leave, and they seem to leave him alone. I don't like it anymore than you guys do, but I think we should do what the madman tells us to do, because I think he is the only one who can get us out of here alive. Korvel.go inside and get the shovels."  
  
Korvel looked at Lenvor to see if he really meant it, and he saw that Lenvor's mind was made up. Lenvor stared with hard eyes at the madman who came running towards them, straight through the undead army.  
  
"Where are the shovels, Korvel! Hurry up!" Morkul screamed, hefting his mace towards the scared leader of the caravan. "You get those shovels out here NOW or I'll kill you myself you worm!"  
  
Lenvor started regretting taking this job, more and more, having taken it only because he needed the money. Thankfully, Korvel just got out of the tent, holding three shovels in his hands, and having tied four waterskins to his belt.  
  
Morkul stopped running, waving them to follow him as het started walking back into the hart of the army. "This way! This way! Don't worry about these skeletons, they won't hurt you!" "Not yet anyway, heh heh." He whispered to himself.  
  
#  
  
The minutes it took the men to catch up with Morkul, who walked through the undead army with no fear at all, were the longest and scariest of their entire lives. They walked through hordes of skeltons, all neatly in formation, as if they could start marching towards a battlefield at any moment. They came across the short and stumpy skeletal remains of humanoids that they could not place, humanoid skeletons wearing rusted armor, giant skeletons with a burning fire within their chest, huge skeletons of various monstrous beasts and at one point even skeletons seated upon the skeletal reamins of horses.  
  
Every now and then the wind would blow through the remains creating an unnerving whistling sound that caused a shiver through the spines of the men. Finally, after what seemed ages, Morkul stopped at a gargantuan creature, still half buried in the sands, remains of what appeared to be a tent, flapping in the wind. The men soon closed in on his position and kept a safe distance from this madman and the surrounding skeletons.  
  
"What are you waiting for, start digging within this beast." Morkul ordered them, without looking back at them, just staring at a symbol of Talos he had taken in his hand.  
  
The men looked at eachother and slowly started moving into the remains of the beast, being carefull not to touch anything within. After a few minutes of digging they hit something hard and Morkul ordered them to carefully dig it out. It appeared to be the remnants of a small iron cage, and Morkul quickly ordered the men to start digging elsewhere, while he examined it, finding some small bones of what used to be a birdlike creature.  
  
The next thing the men uncovered was a human skull. Digging further to uncover more of it, they discovered it was an entire skeleton, wearing some kind of cloak. Morkul's hart jumped as he thought this was the thing he was searching for. He franticly searched the remains, finding runes inscribed on the bones, covering it's arms and legs. Immediately he took out his holy symbol.  
  
"Stand back you fools." The men immediately got out of his way, looking from a distance.  
  
Morkul raised his symbol and pointed it towards the remains. "In the name of Talos, I command thee!" The skeleton immediately responded by rasing to it's feet and it turned so it faced Morkul. "What is your wish, my master?" It said with a hoarse voice.  
  
#  
  
Lenvor, Korvel and Lettor immediately started running away from this abomination to nature, leaving their shovels and water skins behind. Morkul however was amazed at the craftsmanship that had to be needed in creating this kind of skeleton. He had created skeletons himself, but he had never created one that could talk. "I am looking for information about a great artifact that you have sought." He asked, wondering if this skeleton could even understand this type of question. He was even more surprized when this creature responded to it.  
  
"This information I cannot give you, but the Master is the one who could tell you. I have put him in a coffin as he commanded. I could dig him out if you wish it."  
  
"This 'Master' of yours, did he create you?" Morkul asked, being so amazed of the display of intelligence by this skeleton. That he almost forgot why he was here in the first place.  
  
"The master created all of us, although only I and his general are were given special magics."  
  
"The general? There is another like you?"  
  
"That is correct, the general is located somewhere near here, still burried in the sands, waiting for the Master to wake him. Just like I was, before you wakened me by the power of your God."  
  
"Do you know of a way for me to be able to command all of these creatures? The power of my God only enables me to command a few of them, but I want them all!" Morkul was getting excited at the prospect of commanding an undead army, so vast it could conquer the entire region surrounding the Neptune Sea.  
  
"Only the Master or the general have that power."  
  
"Well then, let's not wait and let's get your master out of the sand! Do you need some help with that?"  
  
The skeleton turned away from Morkul, not responding to his last question and started walking towards were the head of the creature would be. It entered the skull and Morkul followed him in. The skull was still half in the sand but Morkul could still walk up straight in it. The robed skeleton dug through the sand for some time and finally pulled out a runestone which it placed in a carved out place in the ceiling.  
  
"This had fallen out during the storm." The skeleton said, without looking back at Morkul. Morkul was about to respond when the skeletons skull glowed a bright red and he said with a booming voice, nothing like the voice it had since Morkul first wakened it:" Arise!"  
  
The ground shook under Morkuls feet and he nearly fell over, while the sand under his feet was starting to fall away. It took only a few moments but after he regained his footing, the gargantuan creature had risen from the sand, clearing most of it from it's insides, and Morkul was raised nearly twenty feet from the desertbottom. He now looked over the desert and discovered that even more skeletons were emerging from the sands, nearly doubling their already incredible numbers.  
  
"Follow me, please." The skeleton said with his usual hoarse voice as he turned towards Morkul. Morkul was almost estatic of the power he would gain, after he took control of this incredible army.  
  
They were now standing on top of wooden boards completely unscathed by their long rest beneath the sands. As Morkul turned around to follow the skeletal servant, whom walked by him, he saw the three guides he wanted to offer to Talos now the journey was over, running through the sands below.  
  
"O no, you don't!" Morkul said as he cast a hold spell on the three, immobilizing them for at least twenty minutes. The skeletal servant had halted his movement, waiting for Morkul to follow him once more.  
  
"I want to offer them to my Lord, Talos, to thank him for the completion of my quest." Morkul said to the servant as he turned towards him. "Whatever you wish." Was the short reply as the skeletal servant resumed his way into the belly of the beast. Morkul followed him, a little annoyed at the uninspired reply of the servant, and reached the belly of the beast once again.  
  
#  
  
This time almost every trace of sand had fallen down to the desertfloor and he could now see the entire contents of the belly. He saw the small iron cage his, soon to be sacrificial victims, dug up only minutes ago, a large wooden closet, a large desk with a comfortable chair behind it and a worn carpet covering the floor. Several ribs of the gargantuan ribcage had either gems encrusted in them or had runes cover them entirely. Everything was still covered with a layer of sand, but the majority was gone.  
  
At the far end of the room there were curtains hanging down from the spine of the beast, and the skeletal servant walked right to them. The curtains parted by an unknown force as he approached and Morkul could see another room beyond. He quickly stepped into this room, which seemed to be both a study and a bedroom. There were several closets, filled with books, all of which were still in perfect condition, a large bed, neatly made up, a small, but complete, laboratory, a large chest in front of the bed and a large metal coffin in the far corner. In this room the layer of sand was much thicker, having fewer openings through which the sands could flow away.  
  
The servant walk towards the coffin and stopped at it's side, rising his arms until they were above the coffinlid. "Usstan lar pholor ussta jabbuk ulu ku'lam 'sohna lueth belbau iklnig ulu ussta dro h'uena mzild!" the servant chanted, with the same voice he had when he caused the undead army to rise from the sands.  
  
The lid of the coffin started to glow with a soft blue light and slowly began opening. Morkul stood a few paces behind the servant, and when the lid slowly started to rise, he felt a shiver run down his spine and had the feeling he just made the biggest mistake in his life.  
  
#  
  
In the meantime, hundreds of miles further north, a blacksmith and his son were laying the finishing touches on a set of full plate mail, the son wanted to make for his best friend.  
  
"Okay Gri'shak, it looks like it's the right size now. Cool it in the bucket and let's finish this suit."  
  
"Sure thing dad. Man, Kellisar is going to be so surprized when he hears that I've made the suit for him."  
  
"I'm sure he'll be even more surprized when you tell him about the speciale features you've implemented in it." Cro'votch replied with a smile on his face.  
  
Cro'votch the Blacksmith was well respected and loved in the village, known for both his kindness and his skill at the forge. Gri'shak, his son, and he looked very similar, both around 6 foot tall, broad shoulders and handsome features. The years at the forge had made Cro'votch a wealthy man, but unlike others who receive such wealth, he didn't squander it away.  
  
Instead he used the money to buy designs for more exotic weapons and armor which he then tried to make himself. He also gave money to the community so it could be used in the infrastructure. Because of his generousity the village could afford the construction and maintenance of a sewersystem, something normally is reserved to great fortresses, like the templefortress of Helm to the east, and the merchant cities around the Neptune Sea.  
  
The familiar hissing sound that came when the redhot piece of metal was plunged into the water, brought Gri'shaks mind back to so many months ago. He was just a young boy, helping his father at the forge, learning the trade, when a priest of Helm came into the smithy. Gri'shak knew the man from the days that he was still being tested for the skills needed to be trained as a priest of Helm, and wondered why he would enter his fathers workshop.  
  
The priests of Helm had their own forge at their fortress and it wasn't usual for them to buy something at Cro'votch's store. The priest talked to his father for several minutes before both of them came towards him. Gri'shak put down the suit of chainmail he was working on as the two men approached him.  
  
#  
  
"Greetings Gri'shak, how are you doing?" The heavily armored priest asked him.  
  
"Just fine, Watcher Glendal. I hope Kellisar is doing well in his trainings?" Gri'shak replied. Gri'shak and Kellisar were both chosen over a year ago after a tournament at the village to start training as a priest of Helm. They both developed a deep friendship during that time, and eventhough Gri'shak eventually didn't qualify to become a Helmite, their friendship remained.  
  
"He is doing just fine, but that is not why I'm here." The priest said, as he took of his open faced helmet, exposing his short, military-style haircut.  
  
"Gri'shak, as you know we have our own forge at the fortress, and it is customary that all newly trained priests receive a set of full plate armor upon completion of their training." Glendal let a pause fall as he put the helmet on a nearby table and brushed his hand over his hair.  
  
"However," He continued, "the set of armor that was being made this year, was made by an aprentice as a final exam."  
  
"He fucked up." Was the quick reply of Gri'shak, which caused a slight smile to appear on the face of his father, who was standing behind the priest.  
  
"He made an error in the creation, young Gri'shak. Something that can happen to anyone, even you." Glendal replied with a harsh voice, obviously not appreciating the reply of Gri'shak. "The apprentice in question is making up for his error as we speak, the problem is that our master armorer is due to leave for an extended periode of time in a few weeks which leaves him too little time to construct a new set of armor."  
  
"O I see were this is going! You want ME to make a new suit for Kellisar!" Gri'shak shouted cheerfully. "Wow, dad, I've been making these chainmails for ages now, you really think I'm ready for the big stuff?"  
  
"Hold on boy!" Glendar said, immediately smothering Gri'shak enthousiasm. "I came here to ask your father to create this suit and eventhough he might think you are ready for such tasks, I'm not convinced. Let me see that mail you are working on." He stretched out his hand and Gri'shak gave him the chainmailshirt he had been working on for the past few days.  
  
Gri'shak knew that his chainmail was flawless, but the prospect of making the armor of all armors, for his best friend even, made his hart pound like crazy. The priest closely inspected the shirt for several moment before grunting his aproval.  
  
"Very well, if you think your son can make this armor, you can let him construct it. Just make sure it will be flawless, or Kellisar wil not have an armor when he is initiated." He said as he gave the shirt back to Gri'shak.  
  
"I'll check his progress regularly, Glendar, and don't you worry about a thing, my son can handle this."  
  
Glendar picked up his helmet and placed it back on his head as he started walking back towards the entrance. "Just bring it to the fortress three days before so we can get the blessing of Helm upon it."  
  
"Will do." Glendar reached the door and was about to go outside when Cro'votch called to him.  
  
"O Glendar, by the way." Glendar turned back towards the blacksmith and his son.  
  
Cro'votch was standing next to his son with a big smile on his face, "Smile sometimes, it won't hurt you!"  
  
With a short grunt Glendar turned away and left the building, muttering something about Cro'votch being a naïeve fool.  
  
#  
  
After that Glendar frequently visited the smithy, keeping an eye on the construction of the suit. Checking and double checking every piece made by Gri'shak over the course of the first few weeks of construction. After that Glendar was apparently convinced about the quality Gri'shak could deliver, for his visits became less frequent. That is until the last, most critical, two weeks of construction.  
  
Gri'shak was having an increasingly hard time keeping it a secret for Kellisar, especially when Kellisar brought the subject of his armor up during an evening full of liquor. The innkeeper Benter had to intervene on several occasions to keep it a secret for Kellisar.  
  
And now, after almost 12 weeks of hard work and long days the set of full plate armor was nearly complete. Gri'shak was laying the finishing touches on it, when Glendar entered the smithy.  
  
"Greetings Gri'shak, your father said that the suit was almost ready to be moved to the temple?:"  
  
"Yep, I'm just laying the finishing touches on it. After that you just have to polish it up a little and it will shine as bright as your own suit, Glendar!"  
  
"As I told you before, Gri'shak, we have a special ceremony at the temple that will take care of that. I will send someone to collect the suit at the end of the day. Make sure it is ready by then. Good day to you both." And with that Glendat turned around and left the smithy, not even waiting for a response of Gri'shak.  
  
"Hey dad, he keeps saying they have a ceremony to polish the suit up, but what's so special about that ceremony? I mean it's just taking a moist rag and scrub on the plates, right?"  
  
Cro'votch took of his gloves and sat down, poring himself and his son a cup of water before he answered. "As far as I know it's some kind of initiation for new priests. There is a large gathering of established priests and worshippers within the temple complex and the initiate stands near the altar wearing his new and unpolished armor.  
  
According to what I've heard, the senior priest contacts Helm himself, for the final judgment of the initiate. If Helm is in favor of admitting the initiate into the His order, the armor becomes unblemished. If he doesn't approve, the armor stays the same, and the initiate is not admitted as a priest of Helm."  
  
"Gee, it seems so.beneath a God to use His powers to clean armor. I can understand the healing and curing powers He bestows upon people, but come on! If you wear armor, you should also clean it!"  
  
"Well," Cro'votch replied after taking a drink from his cup, "Helm IS the God of guardians, maybe He just wants his followers to be able to concentrate on their tasks instead of how they look in their armor."  
  
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense, it's just all that magic. It gives me the creeps."  
  
Gri'shak wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a big gulp of his water. The Gods and their magic, he would never understand. 


	3. Unholy alliance

**Chapter 2: Unholy Alliance**

The blue light emitting from the rising lid of the coffin was slowly decreasing in intensity, until the lid was entirely open and the light died out. Morkul leaned forward to look what was within, when the skeletal servant reached inside, pulling back a cloth covering the body within. When the skeletal hand drew the cloth back, Morkul saw the decayed remains of what seemed to be a human face, only a few slabs of flesh were still attached and the eyes were totally gone, leaving dark, hollow sockets. His quest was a failure, or so Morkul thought. But, when he looked closer, he saw that a faint red light was emanating from within the eye sockets, slowly increasing in intensity.

Morkul's hart nearly stopped when the skeletal remains within the coffin sat upright in a sudden movement. "The Orb!", it shouted. Morkul immediately jumped back a few feet, afraid of the strength and evil radiating from this creature.

"Good day master, it has been far too long." The servant said, taking a little bow towards the skeleton.

The skeleton within the coffin rubbed his hands over his face a few times, as if to help it wake up from a deep sleep, when it slowly pulled its hands away staring at them for a few moments.

"By the Gods…" It sounded startled. It turned its hands several times, as if examining them thoroughly before it franticly started ripping the few remains of its clothes it still had on, as if in a frenzy. After it ripped most of the coverings away it stared for a few moments over its own body. Then it softly started laughing, extending its arm sideways towards the skeletal servant. "Mirror"

The servant produced a mirror from under its robe and handed it to the figure within the coffin. It took the mirror, holding it to examine its face. It again started laughing, quickly turning loud and maniacal, before it smashed the mirror on the side of the coffin, still laughing and holding its head.

The servant waited a second before starting to pick up the pieces of the mirror, scattered over what remained of the floor. "Master, is everything alright? You seem to be…different then before…"

The laughing died down as the skeletal figure rose from the coffin, giving Morkul a good look at its form. This skeleton looked like any other he had ever seen, except for the fierce red dots in its eye sockets. The evil emanating from this thing was almost overwhelming and it took all of Morkul's willpower to overcome the desire to run away and never look back. He also was a bit surprised…this skeleton was clearly intelligent but, unlike the servant skeleton, had no runes or other incantations on any part of its exposed remains.

The skeleton stepped out of the coffin, while ripping apart what remained of it coverings. Morkul made a few steps backwards, before taking his holy symbol firmly in his hands. "It is nothing, I tried to cheat death but Death had other plans for me." The form now stood completely uncovered besides the coffin and it turned its head as if it was taking in the scenery. Until it's gaze stopped looking directly at Morkul. "And who might you be?"

The confidence Morkul had at the start of his quest was now significantly less, but he still was determined as he took his holy symbol, holding it in front of the face of the skeleton. "I am your new master, that's who I am! In Talos his name, obey me! I command it!" He said with a booming voice.

A young man was working in the gardens surrounding a vast fortress, the sun shining on his sweaty back, a rake in his hands. There were several people within the gardens, all of them dirty and sweaty, shoveling out the weeds that grew between the herbs. Overseeing them all was a tall figure wearing an impressive set of full plate, a shield hung over his shoulder and a long sword strung to his belt. Next to him, stood a young chubby man, also looking at all of the young men who were shoveling away the weeds. "You have all been slacking in your vigilance! I want to see all weeds removed from this garden, before the day is finished! If the simple weeds of evil are able to grow beneath our very noses, how can you ever hope to be prepared to face true evil when it rears its ugly head!"

Kellisar knew the drill sergeant was right about this, but it wasn't even his fault the weeds were growing. The garden was the responsibility of another trainee, a young fighter who was notorious for being slack. The rest of the trainees would certainly take revenge upon him, as this wasn't the first time he has gotten everybody in trouble, and most of the other trainees were sick of it. Since the very first day he was a screw-up, and at first he would be punished, but after several months of showing no improvement, the drill sergeant decided to punish the other trainees who obviously were to blame for the bad behavior of the chubby man.

Just a few more days and Kellisar wouldn't have too worry about this guy making his training worse for him, because his initiation was due anytime now. He would finally receive the honor of wearing the full plate armor everybody was working for the past few years. Kellisar could have become a full fledged priest in the service of Helm a year ago, and be rid of the harsh training schedules but he was determined to become a specialty priest. Now after almost three years of harsh training he was mere days away of achieving his dreams.

Suddenly the thoughts of Kellisar were disturbed by the sound of the alarm clocks. Drill sergeant Barnes immediately began shouting orders. "Okay you maggots, you got lucky today! Get your battle gear together and report within the courtyard in twenty minutes! It looks like we're going to war!" He quickly began walking away from the group and Kellisar immediately took over command of the group.

"You heard Sergeant Barnes! Give the tools to Chucky, wash up and get your gear from the barracks! Move!" The young men hurried to take the tools to Chunky who, moments ago, was standing next to the drill sergeant. When there was no higher ranking officer in the neighborhood, Kellisar would take over the role of leader within the group, earning this right during his first years of training.

Despite the confidence he displayed in his orders, Kellisar was worried. In all the years he heard the alarm clocks being rung, it always was a drill, but this time the clocks sounded more…distraught.

It was quiet for several seconds, the tensest seconds in Morkuls life, since his life would probably depend on the outcome. The reaction he received was unexpected.

"Hahahahahahaha! Talos! That's a good one! He's probably the one who is responsible for my current condition, that old fart! Hahaha!" The undead got up from it's coffin and stepped out of it, his laughing turning into a little chuckle, if the noise as frightening as it was could be called that.

"Would you like some new robes, my master?" the servant asked, undisturbed by the attempt of Morkul to command them both.

"O, why not? Although I don't think there is anything left of my clothes." The powerful undead looked around and once again set his gaze upon Morkul. "Are you still here?" It's red eyes flashed a bit stronger when it turned it's head towards the priest.

Looking confused at his unholy symbol, Morkul once again gathered his nerve and attempted to command the undead. "I am! And in the name of Talos, I command Thee!"

"Hmmmm…yes, well…that's getting old, now isn't it? Now are you going to tell me who you are, or shall I ask your corpse later?" The undead walked behind the desk and stood before its comfortable chair. "You have got three seconds." He said as he sat down.

For a single moment Morkul thought about just running away, but he was sure that the power he had over undead was nothing compared too the power this creature commanded. With a sigh he lowered his arm which held the unholy symbol that helped him command numerous undead in the past without flaw, but which now seemed unable to do the same with these creatures. Just another testimony of the great power he uncovered from the desert. "I am Morkul, faithful servant of Talos, God of destruction."

All of the trainees arrived within the courtyard wearing their chain mail armor each of them wore until they were found worthy enough to wear the stronger types of armor. Chucky as usual was the last to arrive, still fiddling with the straps holding his armor together. Each of them stood at their assigned position making last minute adjustments to the location of their weapons and adjusting armor straps. Kellisar walked past them, checking out everyone of them, before stopping in front of Chucky, who was still trying to get a certain part of his armor attached properly. Kellisar grumbled when helping him adjusting it. "Come on Chuck you've been training for years now and still you don't know how to do this in time?"

"I'm sorry Kell, I'm just too nervous when those bells chime!" Chucky looked apologetic towards Kellisar, letting him adjust his armor so that it doesn't hamper his movement anymore.

"I know, I know." Kellisar let's out a sigh. "Just stay close to me if we are sent out for combat, I'll be able to protect you. Now…Attention!" All of the trainees stood up, their feet firmly on the ground, chest out and chin up. Kellisar stood in front of them, his hands in his side, looking at them with approval. Just then drill sergeant Barnes entered the courtyard.

Barnes stood in front of the group, looking at them with a stern expression on his face his eyes narrowing slightly when meeting those of Chucky. "Okay you maggots, it seems that the higher-ups have found out that a small Orc army is about to emerge from the Wastelands." Kellisar held his breath upon hearing this news, as did everyone of the trainees. "Furthermore they also seem to think you are finally ready to take on the field…on your own!" They gasped for air. Every single time they left the temple on assignment they always had the sergeant with them, telling hem what to do and what to look out for and now they would have to do it by themselves. They have trained for this day to come for years now and now it was here they were becoming nervous as hell.

"The main force will leave the temple later this afternoon, your mission will be to form the rearguard, patrolling the area between us and the temple seeing to it that no Orcs get any further or being able to endanger our rear. Get ready and meet me back here in two hours. Dismissed!" Sergeant Barnes was obviously having doubts about sending them out without him, but he trained them well. Except maybe Chucky, but Helm had special plans with him, otherwise the higher-ups would have him kicked out of training months ago.

The trainees went of to get everything they would need for the road thoughts of all kind running through their heads.


End file.
